Fetish Ezine

He tied her wrists to the wrist cuffs first, so that her arms were stretched in front of her. Then he tied her ankles to the base of the bench, so that her legs were spread by the width of the bench.

Tom ran his hand over Sue’s tightly raised ass cheeks. He picked up the whip; he had soaked the last foot of the whip in oil. He didn’t want to cut Sue’s skin; the oil would soften the leather straps.

He went over to Sue and laid the oil-soaked whip straps over her raised bottom.

“Fifty lashes on your bare bottom, Sue. I want to hear you scream tonight.”

He positioned himself sideways to Sue and picked up the whip that was lying on her raised ass. The oil left shiny spots on her bottom. Tom spread the oil all over her cheeks, so he had a shiny aim for the whip.

“You are going to get a bare ass whipping, Sue. Are you excited yet?”

“Please let my wrists loose, Tom. I want to play with myself, that way you have a good reason to punish me.” she said.

“I know exactly what you want, Sue. You want to mix your fun with the whip, that way it won’t hurt you. But not tonight.”

He caressed her thighs and slowly stroked her cunt with his hand. He inserted first one, then two fingers into her cunt, slowly rocking them back and forth. She got wet immediately.

“Punish me now, Tom,” she begged.

He grabbed her hair with his other hand, still moving his fingers in her cunt.

He pulled out his hand from between her thighs. Then he spanked her oiled ass with his flat hand. He inserted his fingers again. Sue came with a wild moan.

“Last time you had pleasure and pain, this time, it’s just going to be the agony of the whip.”

He took the whip and standing to her left, he stepped back so that the tails of the whip lie just on Sue’s ass when he stretched out his arm. He raised his arm and swung the leather whip down with all his force. The whip swished through the air and landed with a wet splitting sound on her bare ass.

The pain was much more intense than what Sue was prepared for. It took her breath away and felt like fire on her bottom. Tom gave her ten lashes across the mounds of her raised buttocks, and then he changed sides.

He positioned himself on the right side this time. Sue asked for mercy, but he started to flog her ass again. Sue was screaming now, but nobody would hear her.

After ten lashes from the right side, Tom stepped in front of her. Tears were rolling out of her eyes, but he was just beginning. He gave her ten lashes while standing next to her head, so that the leather straps would bite into the soft under curves where her thighs met her bottom cheeks. Sue screamed every time the wet leather straps landed on her ass. Her shiny bottom looked raw by now, covered with thin red welts.

For the last twenty lashes, Tom positioned himself behind Sue. He lashed the whip across the broadest parts of her high raised ass as hard as he could. The smacking sound of the wet leather straps against bare skin mixed with Sue’s screams as Tom whipped, and whipped, and whipped.

Sue received the full fifty lashes she was promised that night.

Tom hurried to untie Sue and tried to comfort her. She was obviously hurt more than he intended to.

She liked to be spanked while having sex, but the whipping she received seemed out of line. Or so she thought.

Larry Vee

Spank a Bitch

Terri was lying on the bed, engaged in a heavy fantasy. She was on her stomach; eyes closed and knees spread wide. She was dreaming about presenting her ass cheeks for some heavy discipline.

Her back was arched so that her round ass was raised high into the air. She caressed between her legs with both hands, slowly rocking back and forth on the pillow. Terri was wet and hot.

This was the scene Scott stepped into when he entered the bedroom, he was home early, usually he worked until six. Terri was surprised, but it was too late to cover herself.

Stay as you are, Terri,” he ordered.

She knew she was going to be punished. Scott had spanked her before, but it was more like foreplay. This time he would probably be more severe with her.

“Scott, I was thinking about you.” She whispered.

Scott quietly loosened his belt; it was a heavy leather belt, almost two inches wide. He touched her perfectly round bottom globes with the palm of his hand. He felt the wetness between her legs. He rolled up the belt so that about two feet of the leather were left dangling. Then he brought down his arm and the belt landed with a loud crack on her bare ass.

First, the sound was worse than the pain, but after a second her bottom felt like it was on fire. Scott took his time and admired the thick red welt that was forming across her cheeks. Then he lashed the belt down on her ass again. The walls echoed with a ringing smack. Scott had waited for this opportunity for weeks.

He knew she liked to play the bad girl, but how far would she go?

He would find out right now. He whipped her bare bottom slowly and methodically. Terri started to cry, tears were rolling down her cheeks. But the earsplitting smacks of the leather belt continued as her high raised, bare bottom was flogged until it was glowing red.

“Play with yourself, Terri. Do it right now,” Scott told her.

He watched her as she slowly inserted two fingers into her pussy. She was still wet and started to sway her welted ass while she was masturbating. She arched her back every time she stuck her fingers deep into her pussy, raising and spreading her ass even higher and wider.

“Faster, Terri, until you come, you pretty slut.” Scott demanded.

He hit her with the belt across her ass every time it swayed to its uppermost height. Terri moaned and cried at the same time. Scott continued to punish her while she masturbated, standing behind her and lashing her ass and thighs from left to right and right to left until she finally came.

Terri collapsed breathing heavily and crying at the same time. Her ass and her thighs were covered with dark, red welts. Scott got some gel from the bathroom and gently rubbed the gel across her punished backside.

Terri was still sobbing, but she also felt deeply satisfied. The gel felt cool on her skin and Terri fell asleep.

Scott took a shower, a cold one, and went out to have some dinner.

Larry Vee

“I’m am so sorry,” Jeanette whispered as she slipped her pants off. She was, too. She’d disappointed Tyler, and the knowledge sat like a stone in her belly. But he was smiling at her, that grim, bright-eyed smile that said he knew exactly how to make it better. How she could make it up to him. “I won’t speed again.”

“Of course you won’t,” he said, pulling her over, into his lap. “I trust you. But I want you to remember this, Darling.”

She closed her eyes and winced. Last time it had been the phone bill – she’d gone eighty dollars over, and every dollar of it had come out of her hide one swat at a time. That had been tough enough – Tyler’s hands were large and hard, and rough from his years of working with his hands at his carpentry studio.

Each smack to her bottom had made her wince, and by the end, she was crying. It had been months and she swore she could still feel the burn. Her ass had been raspberry-colored for days.

This would be worse – one hundred and twenty smacks.

He bent her over his knee, and she blushed at the indignity as her tender bottom was turned up to his view. Her baby doll shirt slipped up over her bra. The ticket lay where it had fallen, on the floor not two feet from her nose. She stared at the little pink slip, the hateful numbers carbon-copied onto it. She’d been so stupid, but she’d wanted to hurry home to Tyler!

She squirmed in his grip and he tightened his hold on her, tugged her panties down. A fresh surge of humiliation ran through her as he touched her pussy lips, ran his fingers up the crack of her ass. She was totally open, vulnerable.

The first slap landed almost lightly, right on the sweet spot below the swell of her cheek. It barely hurt, but she still jumped, her skin crinkling into goose bumps even as an electric cold current jolted through her, tightening her nipples. She gasped as more blows fell, light at first, just warming the skin, the slaps muted as he kept his hand on her flesh after each stroke.

She kicked her heels a little, around twenty. Was he just fooling around with her or what? He’d been so angry . . . why was he going easy on her? It made her worry, and worry made her sweat.

When he had warmed her up, he set to with a passion, suddenly switching from light strokes to hard smacks, the sound whipping through the room. The first three fell before the pain peaked, and before Jeanette could even cry out. She was grateful he wasn’t making her count, even as she swallowed bitter tears.

She could not have kept count, not with these hard spanks raining down on her upturned, helpless ass. She squirmed, wriggled, and once, in desperation, hoping to make him slow down or give her a respite, she thrust her hand back to try to shield her naked ass – a terrible no-no, but she couldn’t help herself. He grasped the offending wrist and paddled harder, allowing time between strokes for the pain to swell and burn to its peak.

She gasped and wailed, past the point now where it was pure pain, and now only sensation, warmth, pressure, sharp flashes like heat lightning playing over her skin. He took her to the edge and beyond it, pushed her over . . . it wasn’t pleasure, tears still fell, but she felt her body open up and accept the punishment. She went limp across his legs, and the last twenty strokes fell hard on her unresisting bottom.

After, he gently picked up the ticket, put it away, lay her on the couch. Her ass burned, her whole body coursed with endorphins. She felt drowsy and pleasantly heavy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

“Of course you are. I still love you, you know.” His smile made him the handsomest man in the world. The lust that had simmered in her at the touch of his commanding hands now boiled over.

“Come here,” she said, spreading her thighs, her body needing to feel him again. “Come here and prove it to me.”

– Alexandra Rose

Spanking Mania

Finale Shudders

He pulls her round to face him. Bare below the navel, pale skin, feeling the sudden coolness of a passing draft, she flushes again and a sheen of sweat breaks out on her skin. How can she be so hot but shivering, so dry in the mouth and damp in the body!

With his arm around her waist and her leg shackled, she’s powerless to resist as she’s tipped unceremoniously upside down, but even as she shoots her right hand out to take control of her descent she finds that wrist held as well, she’s going down under his control.

A momentary adjustment and she’s been put in her position, arranged, tipped over, dangling head down, right leg locked into the crook of his right arm pressed against her back, her rear jutting unwillingly up, bare; displayed; waiting.

He pauses, lets her appreciate the undignified state she’s in. She’s only too aware of it, unable to move, yet still swaying precariously, barely able to touch the floor with her free hand, her open blouse covering only her shoulders serving merely to highlight her nakedness, the empty bra cups brushing mockingly against her swaying breasts.

The first slap comes as a shock and she yells, twists, unable to jump, as she feels every callous on his hand imprinted into her rear. Then there’s a surreal silence as she grits her teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her squeal.

Her stomach gives that little lurch again, and not just from the driving thud of her pelvis into the solidity of his supporting leg. Her left hand is off the floor and waving spasmodically in a feeble gesture that says ‘look at me, I’m being spanked, I’m helpless.’

She can feel her breasts jiggling about foolishly with each slap, her face is burning and her eyes prickling with tears.

Her muffled sob is a signal to him and the slaps suddenly come faster. She’s bouncing about over his knee, hair flying, sobbing and yelling, her left leg flailing impotently, struggling against his grip.

“Quiet down!”

She feels a stinging slap against her thigh, and again, as her legs are slapped into settling down a semblance of order. She has an awful hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach: it’s the realization that although she has had enough, more in fact, she’s being obliged to settle herself to accept more, to take whatever he thinks she is due.

Then it continues. Her already sore flesh stings and aches, each fresh slap sending a rush of shocks through her. And it spreads, from her rear, to the tops of her thighs, and onwards, engulfing her.

Instead of kicking, her left leg is thrust out, rigid, except for the muscle-spasm twitches. It’s the last vestige of her self-control, reflecting her inner tension as she attempts to endure, to hold out and say to herself ‘I survived it’, even as she stifles the sobs and feels the tears dripping.

But as it’s a prop to her, so it signals her resistance to him, with each jerking twitch telegraphing how close is the final collapse.

Tears… real tears, welling up in uncontrolled sobs, she slumps limply, emotionally naked at last, as her overwhelming finale shudders through her body.

Tandi